2004-03-06 - 3:22 p.m.

Last night I told a friend that my relationship was the closest I'd ever come to what my therapist described as the basic premise of all working marriages: you want to make the other person happy before all, and he wants to make you happy in turn, and over the long haul it balances out. And that is true. I know that the boyfriend does not really want to attend another child's birthday party, and I also know that he will, without complaint, if it matters to me. In turn, I think twice before dragging him off to the third in as many months, because I know it's not his thing, and I want his free time to be well spent in his way.

But I can't help but wonder if it might not be better, healthier, if he wanted to do those things, too. On some level, I realize this is unrealistic. When I discussed this with my friend Karen, she snorted. "Yeah, there are loads of men out there who are just dying to go to all your friends kiddie parties."

In my own family, this is how it is. Everyone attends everything, and likes it. In theory, of course. In reality, couples argue at home about it, there is invariably someone sulking at the table, usually a grownup. My brother never moved back after college, and sometimes on the phone, when I am telling him about my latest familial guilt, he says, "That's why I live here."

But there is a part of me that wants that. The boyfriend will never be part of my family the way they want him to be. Meaning, he will not drive out to my Mom's house when I'm away to have dinner, or suggest a rousing Saturday night of board games with my family. He will, however, do those things with me if I ask. Isn't that enough? Intellectually, I do not think this is an issue. So why does it feel so much like one?

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